


I need you to touch me

by kyriebitches



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Schmoop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-04
Updated: 2013-12-04
Packaged: 2018-01-03 10:53:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,139
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1069619
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kyriebitches/pseuds/kyriebitches
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It started one night Sam knew Dean would be gone for hours. Had to prepare. Had to make sure his broken record brother wouldn’t see him like this. Something had been beating Dean up inside for weeks. Sam knew it. Saw it every time he looked at him. Stolen sideways glances and a flicker of pain.</p><p>Sam couldn’t do it anymore. Couldn’t take that look in his brother’s eyes. Knew it was his fault. Knew it deep down inside. Always the freak; always his little brother the damaged abomination.</p><p>The pain was boiling in him like a cancerous ulcer. Festering inside like a slow burn, always with the same last words: “evil.”</p><p>Rated E for later chapters.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I need you to touch me

It started one night Sam knew Dean would be gone for hours. Had to prepare. Had to make sure his broken record brother wouldn’t see him like this. Something had been beating Dean up inside for weeks. Sam knew it. Saw it every time he looked at him. Stolen sideways glances and a flicker of pain.

Sam couldn’t do it anymore. Couldn’t take that look in his brother’s eyes. Knew it was his fault. Knew it deep down inside. Always the freak. Always his little brother, the damaged abomination.

The pain was boiling in him like a cancerous ulcer. Festering inside like a slow burn, always with the same last words: “evil.” Sam wasn’t an idiot. He knew what was inside him. Knew about the demon blood. Wretched, feted evil from the very pit of hell, thrust inside him without his volition. Couldn’t be taken away, no matter how hard he tried.

Never gonna be normal; never gonna be pure; always gonna be evil, dirty, unclean, unclean, unclean….

Sam’s panic began in the bedroom. Pacing and repeating, pacing and repeating. The phrase repeated. Got louder and louder inside him until he heard nothing else. It rang in his ears. He felt the vibration in his bones. Heard his soul shake with it.

_Unclean, unclean, unclean…._

His hands shook and his torso vibrated. He followed his feet to the grimy motel bathroom. All soap scum and tired, dingy tiles. It felt like the cage. Like a dirty prison. It was ages and ages of dirt and bad choices and it looked like Sam felt.

He couldn’t get away from it.

_Unclean, unclean, unclean, unclean…._

His knees gave out and he felt the bile rise in his throat. _Here it is,_ he thought _. It’s coming._

Then he heard the door. A snick and a rattle of keys, and his worst fear was realized.

"Nothing out there worth our time, Sammy. No one’s talking. I say we— Sam?"

Footsteps. A quick glace around the room. Nothing.

"Sammy. Sam!"

 _It’s starting_. Sam’s breath quickened. Short, desperate pants, and then a whimper. It was blind panic. It was everything Sam hated in himself. Something he couldn’t protect Dean from. Something inside him that was killing him from the inside. Had been for years. _Nothing he could do, nothing he could do._

A knock on the door. “Sam! You in there, man?”

Sam’s eyes grew wide as saucers and lifted off from the floor, settled in his hands and reached the door, shaking with the force of Dean’s thumps.

"Sammy, open the door."

He couldn’t help it. Really, he couldn’t. It became palpable, this evil inside him. He felt it move in him. Coursing through veins. Could pinpoint each little seed of it, different from the others. Felt it burn within him. Another whimper. And then he tensed, his face contorting with the force of a great sob, but no sound escaped him. Clenching his jaw in a silent scream, then wrenching his mouth open and letting it out.

The next room had to have heard.

"Sammy! Open up!"

Then down came the door and Dean saw, finally, what was finally going to kill his brother. Himself.

"Sam! Sammy, no!"

Dean dropped beside him and took his shoulders in a hard grip, shaking his brother who was worlds away, inside himself.

Sam closed in tight and hid.

_Can’t let Dean see…Can’t let Dean know…_

Sam let himself remember. Let himself go back to when everything was okay. When he let Dean kiss him for the first time when he was sixteen. A hot, hazy, humid summer day in Arizona. Dean drove the Impala out to the desert, next to the highway. They watched the sunset, all golds and purples and oranges like persimmons. Richness and sunlight and warmth. 

Dean sidled up to him and touched his face. Sharing the same breaths. Dean looked him right in the eye.

"Never, ever, gonna let anything bad happen to you, Sammy. I promise.”

The rest was lips and tongue and wetness and _more, Dean, please._

And that’s what woke him. Warm, chapped lips against his. And the same wetness, but this time, it was Sam. He was sobbing. Hadn’t realized. Hadn’t cared.

"I’m here, Sammy, I’m here. Give you whatever you want. Just tell me." He realized he'd reminisced out loud.

Sam’s breath quickened again and Dean’s hand raced to his heart.

"Right here, Sammy. Feel that? You’re here, and you’re okay. You gotta calm down for me, buddy. Please. Please." Dean begged.

"Not clean, Dean, not _pure,_ " said Sam. Ragged breath after ragged breath punched from him.

"You’re okay, baby. You’re mine and I’ll make it better. I promise." Dean moved his face real close, sharing breath again like when they were sixteen, and Sam almost lost it all again. "Never ever gonna let anything bad happen to you."

Dean held out his hand, palm up, like a prayer waiting to be answered. Sam grasped it, quick, like the last act of a dying man.

"You have me. You have me, and I am not going anywhere." Dean pressed his forehead to Sam’s. "Breathe with me, Sammy, please. You’re scaring me, here, man."

And Sam snapped to life. Scare dean? No. Not acceptable.

"Dean-" his breathe stopped him. Panicky gasps of air.

"Shhhh, Sammy, just breathe with me."

And finally, he stopped. Concentrated. Gave all he had to Dean. Had to. Stared at his mouth. Pouted and flushed. Breathing in. Breathing out. 

Breathing in. Breathing out.

In.

Out.

And then he could breathe, too. He could speak. He could feel his blood and it wasn’t burning. His Dean was there. Dean was a superhero. It was like being 5 again, when he knew, without a doubt, that his older brother could do anything. Even the impossible.

"I’m never gonna be normal, Dean. Never gonna be clean. Please, Dean, you gotta help me, please." The fear glassed over his eyes.

_No, Sammy, no_

Dean knew he’d made a terrible mistake. He was destroying his brother, not helping him. Being selfish and too quick to judge a friendly face. The angel inside him was going to kill him and Dean would've died right there if it meant his brothers pain could go away. The pain he didn't deserve.

"We’re gonna make it okay, baby, I promise. I fucking swear it to you, Sam. Sam— _Sam_. Look at me right now. We’re gonna make it. Okay."

Sam drove his mouth onto Dean’s. Heat and desperation and absolute need to feel. Feel anything. Feel his brother's hands on him. Those sculpted hands, made just to take care of him. Knew it so deep it screamed inside him, louder than anything else now. Screaming to find it's counterpart. 

"Dean, please, you have to touch me. I need you to touch me."

 

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first Wincest fic I've ever written and the first long prose I've done in ages and ages. Hope you like it.  
> Please leave comments, I'll probably be happy and cry if you do.


End file.
